


Reunions

by red_flag



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (?), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Punk!Lexa, Speaking of Reunions, This has been sitting for a while in a file, is it punk!Lexa?, quotes, seems like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_flag/pseuds/red_flag
Summary: Clarke halted in the doorway.There she was, in the middle of the room. Lexa was standing on her own, softy swinging on the beat of the song playing from the polished record player in the corner. She had a bottle in her arms – whisky – holding it against her chest like it was a dancing partner, like it was a dear lover.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	Reunions

**Author's Note:**

> Clexa are soulmates in canon. IN CANON. Can you believe?! Because I couldn't. I cried. Truly, because it has been so many years since we last saw her, man, can you guys BELIEVE what an angel acd is?
> 
> Alycia, darling, I feel like I can lay down my life for you to step on this after last night's episode. Way to wreck me up emotionally.
> 
> This is a scene I once wrote. A lot of poetry in here, song lyrics in the dialogs and descriptions. Hope you guys like it.
> 
> TW; use of marijuana, alcohol, smoking.

Clarke halted in the doorway.

There she was, in the middle of the room. Lexa was standing on her own, softy swinging on the beat of the song playing from the polished record player in the corner. She had a bottle in her arms – whisky – holding it against her chest like it was a dancing partner, like it was a dear lover.

She looked older. She looked good – content – peaceful and Clarke drank in the sight of her like Lexa was water in a desert. An old black T-shirt faithfully hung on her body; _Metallica_. A pair of dark blue jeans hugged her long legs. Dark combat boots on her feet. If Clarke had to guess, she would say there was a leather jacket somewhere, losing a battle against the soft warmth of the room’s interior.

The beat of the song gently picked up its pace – trumpet slipping in front of the sound of the electric guitar. In response, Lexa’s body followed the new rhythm with equal smoothness, a faint smile on the corner of her mouth. Combat boots turned on the floor, taking Lexa’s lean body in a gentle spin, a dancing spin following the spin of the black disk in the wooden vinyl. Someone could eagerly choose to fool themselves into thinking the music was coming out of Lexa’s movements.

It had been so many years.

Clarke wondered if Lexa was still spending the nights up in her tiny apartment, if she still had that journal of quotes, lyrics and philosophical nonsense she’d called questions of one’s life. She wondered if they could sit down in a narrow balcony and listen to each other talk about the stars, the universe, the world. She wondered if Lexa still loved this city, if she still wrote unsent letters to herself, to Clarke, to no one in particular.

She wanted to know and she knew she’d handle whatever answers Lexa had to offer.

Without opening her eyes, Lexa reached to the side, to the high surface of the TV’s table, her ling fingers wrapping around a cigarette and bringing it up to her pulp lips and that was new, that was a detail of the moments which had passed in the time Clarke was away. Clarke’s lips pulled up in a smile because she had told Lexa a million times not to start smoking.

Apparently, though, Lexa would never change.

Somewhere in Clarke’s lungs, a basic biology function halted and the air trapped in her chest with the lingering smoke of the tight room. She had a faint almost dull feeling that Bellamy and Octavia hung awkwardly somewhere on her side or behind her, buzzing with excitement to be introduced around. It was impossible to focus on them, when Lexa danced with smile.

Out of nowhere, Anya’s familiar face appeared next to her and the older blonde also looked different, more mature, gentle lines around her mouth, around her brown eyes. She nudged Clarke with a playful glare and one of her arms had wrapped around Rave’s shoulders; a soft and quiet greeting back in town. “Are you just going to stand there, Griffin?” Anya’s cutting voice whispered and Clarke blinked heavily, managing to finally close her parted mouth.

She’d greet the blonde later.

For now, there was another priority.

The green eyes opened when Clarke was close enough to reach out and touch her. The orbs were peacefully glassy and dazed by alcohol or weed or smoke but they were so very beautiful, so very familiar and aware and Clarke couldn’t breathe as she watched the faint smile on Lexa’s face widen into something more alive, into something brighter.

“You are back”.

Clarke’s knees almost gave out.

“I am”.

Lexa paused her gentle swaying, her arms slowly unwrapping from around the bottle. The green eyes drowned in blue and something softened in her face, in her body – like a guarding wall was tenderly let down.

Clarke felt her heart skip and pulse through her whole body.

“Lexa”, she whispered and the brunette delicately jolted on her feet.

The green eyes shut closed. “Clarke”.

It felt like a loving shock, like a warm hand and a kind voice waking her up from a peaceful sleep, like someone offered her a cup of freshly made coffee early in a rainy morning, like a breath of spring air.

“I missed you”, Clarke whispered, her throat dry and painful.

Lexa shook her head. “Later”, she whispered as well and inched closer and Clarke could not breathe again. “Dance with me for now. I’m too high and too drunk to have a conversation. I just want to feel you here”.

A smile pulled at her lips and an answering grin appeared on Lexa’s mouth.

Clarke choked on a sob when the familiar hands touched her again.

Lexa pulled her against her chest, a hand guiding Clarke’s face on her long smooth neck and the blonde let go against her, letting Lexa hold her, letting Lexa steady her. She felt the brunette let out a very deep breath – a whimper sounding in the cracked puff of air – and then, Clarke was pressing her lips on her skin in a proper for them greeting.

“ _We will meet again one day, and then, every night and every star and every song, they will be ours_ ”, Lexa whispered in her hair and Clarke shuddered against her, hot tears falling from her eyes as Lexa rocked her gently in the middle of the room – in the middle of the airport’s wide and open space.

“I have your picture in my wallet”.

“Kind of creepy, Clarke”, Lexa smiled through her own tears, head tilting to the side.

She jabbed a finger on Lexa’s pointy collarbone. “I told you not to pick up smoking”.

“Forgive me, my love. Some days were rough”.

“I told you I wanted you to be hard during those times”.

Lexa chuckled and lowered her forehead on Clarke’s and they swayed in the song playing from the vinyl. “I tried”.

Clarke closed her eyes, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. “I want to tell you everything that happened to me, everything that made me indifferent and changed the girl you used to know. Some days were rough for me too, Lexa. I changed”.

“You are here, Clarke”, Lexa whispered and her hold tightened. “It feels alright again”.

“I never stopped loving you”.

“I believe you. I never stopped loving you either”.

Clarke smiled and there were tears sliding down her cheeks. “I believe you too”.

“ _And so, in one million years, we will be together again. We will sing all through the night, back on earth, the next day. We will sing about everything we have left behind. I know I didn’t get the chance to tell you of frenetic hot nights. Of a dance which came from another planet, music made of pure dynamite…_ ”

Clarke laughed. “ _…With a bit of rock n roll and a tanker of alcohol_?”

Lexa grinned and nodded.

“Why did I get the title of the Party Girl again?”

The brunette chuckled. “Because, punk is considered classy”.

“No, it’s not”.

Lexa hummed and Clarke ached to kiss her, to feel her completely, to learn her again.

“Remember when we dug this song out?”

“Took us like… a week to translate”.

“We loved the music”.

“We did”.

“ _Let me take you tonight to show you the town when everyone is asleep_ ”.

Clarke pulled back and smiled. “I don’t know this one”.

Lexa grinned – pleased. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It would be if this town wasn’t filled with people that could murder us in an alley”.

Her laugh was like another blow of fresh air in Clarke’s lungs.

“Always the pragmatist”, Lexa whispered with laughter in her green eyes. Clarke fell in love all over again.

“Always the poet”, she replied. It felt like no years had passed between them. “I picked up a few things though”.

The green eyes dropped on her lips with innocent need, with longing and want and Clarke wanted her to do it.

“Not yet”, Lexa whispered like Clarke had said the words aloud. Maybe she had. Maybe Lexa still knew her every thought. It seemed like she was struggling to restrain herself to do as she told herself. “I want to fall in love with you all over again”.

“ _Our most beautiful days, we haven’t seen yet. And the most beautiful words I wanted to tell you, I haven’t said yet_ ”.

“Classic”, Lexa smiled and melted and Clarke was ready to say _fuck it_ and finally lean in to do what she dreamed to do for years.

The urge was embraced in Lexa’s arms as they wrapped around her in a full body hug. Clarke closed her eyes against her and breathed easily for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> I think there were supposed to be scenes before and after this - a start and an end - but I couldn't write anything at the moment. Still, enjoy. If there are any mistakes, let me know.
> 
> Don't do drugs, kids, and wash your hands.


End file.
